Read Online Dorothy Garlock - [Annie Lash 01] by Wild Sweet Wilderness - Free Book Online Page B

her again.
    Large hands crowded her away. “Let me.” Fain’s great strength lifted Rachel easily to her feet. “Rub the muscles,” he instructed. Berry fell to her knees, slipped her hands beneath Rachel’s skirt, and rubbed the knotted muscles in her calf until they softened enough for Rachel to place her foot on the ground. “I’ll walk her.” Fain’s forearm fit beneath Rachel’s arm and his hand grasped her arm. She leaned heavily on him and took a painful step. Berry watched helplessly, grateful for the big man’s help. They walked back and forth within the circle of light.
    “When’s she due?” Simon asked. He was still standing in the same spot, still leaning on his rifle.
    Berry’s face turned brick red. Men weren’t supposed to mention such things! “Anytime,” she snapped.
    “I thought as much. She should move around more.”
    Pride prevented Berry from telling him that Rachel didn’t ride in the wagon all the time because she wanted to. She would have preferred to walk some of the time, but her footgear wasn’t stout enough. “You seem to know so much. How many younguns do you have?”
    “None. No wife.” He almost smiled.
    “That don’t mean . . .” Her voice lapsed and her eyes traveled past him. “Where’s he goin’ with her?” She could just barely see the glimmer of Rachel’s dress as she and Fain walked into the darkness. She took a step after them, then turned and picked up the musket. Simon grasped her arm.
    “Nothing will happen as long as she’s with Fain.”
    “I trust no man!” Berry jerked her arm free.
    “You trusted me . . . last night.” This time he did smile. The spreading of his lips rearranged the features of his face pleasantly. He’s handsome, Berry thought with an unexplainable little flutter in her stomach. Not pretty handsome, but not hard to look at. The warmth where his hand had held her arm was still there. He continued to grin at her. “What do you think he’ll do? Throw her to the ground and have his way?”
    “Ain’t that what you men think a doin’ all the time?” She could have bitten her tongue for saying the bold words. Color came up her neck and flooded her face for the second time. His low, rumbling laugh did nothing to ease her discomfort.
    “When they’re looking at a pretty woman, they do. Have you looked in a looking glass lately?”
    “I’ve got no lookin’ glass,” she snapped, and moved back from him so that she could see his face without having to tilt her head so far back. The musket hung heavily against her thigh. She looked at it to keep from looking at him, then raised her chin and stuck out her jaw. She walked away from him.
    At the end of the wagon she took several deep breaths and wondered why her pulse was hammering so wildly. She put the musket in the corner of the wagon within easy reach and stood for a minute with her hands gripping the tailgate. When she turned he was there; she almost rubbed against him. She swallowed a startled cry.
    Simon leaned his rifle against the end of the wagon and placed a hand on each side of her. Her back was against the rough boards. She was caged by his arms and tall, hard body. She could scarcely breathe for the excitement that crowded her lungs. Later she was to wonder why she hadn’t struggled and why she’d said something so stupid.
    “I hate that hat!”
    “Why? It’s a good hat.”
    “Humph!”
    “What does that mean?”
    “Means I still don’t like it.”
    “It keeps the sun off.”
    “Sun’s not out now. You hidin’ a bald spot?”
    He laughed, and a puff of warm breath fanned her face. He smelled of leather, tobacco, and something tangy, like spice. “Take it off, if you’re bound to find out,” he invited softly.
    She hesitated, then looked up at him with an impish grin tilting her lips. It seemed to her that she reached a long way up to grasp the hat brim. The hat was jammed tightly on his head and she had to tug to remove it. Thick, straight black